


The Lion and The Dragon

by SoulOfSnow



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Asoiaf - Fandom, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-25
Updated: 2012-03-25
Packaged: 2017-11-02 11:49:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/368686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulOfSnow/pseuds/SoulOfSnow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kayla is sent to meet the Khaleesi after Jorah learns of her warging abilities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lion and The Dragon

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ: This is not supposed to be quality! It's made for a really good friend of mine! I added my friend Kayla into a story with a few of her favourite characters because I love her and I wanted to thank her for being awesome!  
> It's not canon, and just for fun!

The red waste stretched far ahead of them, and there was no end in sight. There was never any end in sight. From the moment the sun broke through the thin wispy clouds in the morning, scattering them like smoke, until the last slit of light that peered over the horizon in a festival of bright oranges and reds it was impossibly hot. What remained of the khalasar was dwindling and becoming thinner day by day. One cart remained to the horde, a few horses and only 4 riders accompanied the Khaleesi. The rest were stragglers, many old and frail and a few who might have been useful if they were not dying. Kayla walked among them, safely hidden from much of the sun’s insufferable intensity behind the old cart only just being able to keep up. It rumbled over the dry stony earth and every now and then a wheel would catch, and she and any others fit enough would help push the lumbering thing out of its rut. In truth, the whole khalasar was in a rut. _But it is better than the alternative, remember that._

As the days continued and more and more dropped like flies, the khalasar made less progress through the red abyss, and Kayla could feel her strength fading. It had started when they’d left the great Dothraki Sea and its abundance of food and riches. _And lions._ But as they drifted further east and away from the great grass plains, Kayla had lost her sense of ferocity. Staying hidden now would be hard, especially without her skin to slip into the ghost grass and stalk away from prying Dothraki eyes. _But it is better than the alternative, remember that._

The horde made camp alongside jutting rocks of harsh black stone that shouldered through cracks in the compacted earth; rude and sharp and dark. They gave little protection from the sun as it set over the wasteland, and they were too hot to rest against. The khalasar stretched out thin and long, and the riders of the Queen’s guard set up meagre tents and windbreaks (though there was no wind) to shelter Daenerys and her dragons. Kayla sat with two children of about six and eight and fed them bread and dates from her own supplies, watching over her shoulder as the Khaleesi ducked under the flimsy tent flap with Drogon on her shoulder. Kayla paled to see such an unusual beast, and felt her stomach churn at the sight of the other two in cages being passed inside. Daenerys wore her white lion skin robe; the hrakkar fell heavily about her shoulders and tickled the floor with thin strands of fur. _He had been my brother, and my friend. And Khal Drogo took him from us while we slept._ Kayla couldn’t stand to look at it anymore, and turned back to the children. Their mother had died some weeks ago, yet still the youngest wept between mouthfuls of stale bread. At first she had pitied them, but children were never her sort and she was beginning to tire of their incessant crying. Finally she sighed and got to her feet, looking for somewhere to be alone.   
“Good evening, my lady.” Ser Jorah’s voiced startled Kayla as she turned to head towards the back of the khalasar. Instead she froze, as though remaining still might make her invisible. No such luck. “You do speak the Common tongue, do you not?” The tone in Mormont’s words spoke loud enough to tell Kayla she was caught. But she was not one to give up so easily. _Run, or confront. Fight or flight._ Kayla turned and looked up at the Bear through her lashes. His eyebrow arched and his smile faded.   
“No.” She said, attempting to give the word some sort of unfamiliar accent.   
“No? What tongue do Lannisters speak then, my lady, except for the language of gold?” Jorah seized Kayla by the arm before she had a chance to run, dirty fingernails digging in her dry skin. She thought to shout at him, but she didn’t know enough Dothraki to be believable. Instead, Kayla felt the strength of her once loyal skin fill her senses, as though they were back in the Dothraki Sea. She grabbed his wrist with her free hand and wrenched free. Before Jorah could refocus, Kayla turned on her heels and ran. _Where are you going? There is no end in sight._ She twisted left and slipped between two of the sharp rocks, threading through smaller ones until once again she met flat red nothingness. The strength that had returned gave Kayla the hope there was a lion close by, but she could see nothing around her. Ser Jorah Mormont was hard on her heels, unsheathing the sword at his hip. Kayla panicked and almost tripped in her efforts to get away, when the sound of hooves sounded through the rocks and two of Dany’s blood riders circled her, cutting off her exit route.   
“There’s no use running, Lannister. You were a fool to think you could escape us.”   
“Lannisters are not _fools_!” Kayla heard herself speak, but the words felt alien and her voice unfamiliar. For so long now she had remained silent to avoid being caught. Jorah scoffed and sheathed his blade, signalling Rakharo to take Kayla by her bruising arm. She considered resisting, but her lion’s strength had left her.

They marched her back through the weedy little khalasar and in the direction of the crude tent where the Khaleesi and her dragons would be waiting. Kayla could only hope that the lion pelt that hung over Daenerys’ naked scalp would be enough to give her some strength. Ser Jorah opened the flap to the tent and led her inside. Daenerys stood as soon as Kayla came into view behind Mormont and Drogon screeched from his cage. The Khaleesi let her hrakkar drop back onto the pillows where she had been laying. She signalled her handmaids to leave, having them close the tent flap behind them.   
“Are you thirsty, my lady?” Daenerys asked, pouring summer wine into a silver cup from the counter by the pile of pillows. Kayla shook her head, frowning. “What is your name?”   
There was no use lying now. Ser Jorah had caught her once, and it would do her no benefit to lie to the leader of the khalasar.   
“Kayla.”   
“Kayla Lannister.” Ser Jorah spat, crossing the room to stand beside his Queen. He had a face made for suspicion, but Kayla could see it had not always been so.   
“Lannister?” Dany seemed to ponder the idea of the House for a moment, sipping at her wine “House Lannister; hear me roar.”   
“I’m not a Lannister.” Kayla said, running a hand through her pale golden hair. With so much time spent in the sun, she was beginning to resemble a Targaryen more than a Lannister.   
Daenerys smiled. “No, you’re a Lannister bastard, aren’t you?” When Kayla did not need to reply, her face must have said enough. Even across the narrow sea, she could not hide from her illegitimacy.   
“That would make you Kayla Hill, if I remember correctly.” Dany seemed pleased with herself for remembering so much from her motherland. Ser Jorah smiled at him Queen.   
“This girl is Cersei Lannister’s bastard.” He said, lips curling up into a snarl at the mere mention of her mother’s name. Cersei’s twin Jaime had killed Dany’s father; he’d never be forgiven for that. Especially by the Mad King’s daughter. Kayla felt her nerves ripping to shreds.   
“Khaleesi, my mother—she had nothing to do with that.” Kayla felt the sense of urgency in her voice. _Please, do not make me dragon food_. Jorah looked as though he wanted nothing more, but Dany seemed different. She crossed the room and stood before Kayla in her Dothraki garb, examining Kayla’s golden eyes carefully.   
“You really are the lion’s daughter, aren’t you? But who is your father?” Before Kayla could answer Daenerys, Jorah spoke.   
“Some thought she was the result of some incestuous love affair, if the rumours are true. But I don’t believe that any longer. Only the Starks are capable of warging.”  Dany turned suddenly to face Jorah, as shocked at such an idea as Kayla was that he knew. _Had I been so obvious?_   
“I—I never… you’re wrong!”   
“Am I, bastard?” He lifted the lion skin from the pillows and held it towards her. Kayla looked down instantly. “Watch her eyes, Khaleesi. Do you see how they glow? This was one of the lions she would slip into when we were in Vaes Dothrak.” Dany lifted Kayla’s face with a finger and marvelled at the sight. Kayla’s eyes shone a beautiful array of gold and yellow and flecks of green and brown. Her senses filled with the smell of the fur and a thousand lion dreams filled her thoughts. It was like home. When Ser Jorah stepped closer, Kayla could feel a rumble in her stomach that if she allowed it would erupt into a fierce and terrifying roar. But when she caught a glimpse of the violet in Dany’s eyes, it all vanished.   
“Who is your father?” Dany asked, her voice no more than a whisper.   
“I don’t know, Khaleesi. My mother birthed me and sent me to a woman in the Riverlands. When my grandfather Tywin Lannister learned of me, he sent Ser Gregor Clegane after me. I had to _run_.”   
“Why would he do that?”   
“My mother is the Queen of all the Seven Kingdoms. If anyone learned she had mothered a bastard—that’s treason.” Kayla stood as strong as she could, with all her dignity she had remaining to her as a defensive wall around her. Daenerys turned back to Jorah and sipped the remains of her wine.   
“Who is this girl’s father, Ser Jorah?”   
“Brandon Stark, Khaleesi. Ned Stark’s dead brother. It’s the Starks who have a history of warging.” _Was that the name for it? I never knew._  
“Leave us, ser.” Daenerys sat on her pillows and waited for the Bear to leave. Kayla remained still. “Tell me, Kayla Hill. You knew who I was, why did you follow my khalasar?”   
“When you first married Khal Drogo, I thought you might legitimise me when you took back Westeros. When Drogo passed, I had nowhere else to go.”   
“Why not return to Westeros?”   
Kayla couldn’t help but laugh. She ran a hand through her hair once more. “What was it you said, Khaleesi? ‘I really am the lion’s daughter’? Even the Riverlanders knew I was a Lannister. Tywin would find me, and have me killed.”   
“Why don’t you—do that thing where you become a lion… you could stop them?”   
“I don’t just transform into a big cat, Khaleesi.” Suddenly she stepped forward and picked up the lion skin pelt. “I warg into one that already lives.” It saddened her to remember her four legged friend, and the shriek he had made when Khal Drogo had killed him. Daenerys seemed to sense her sadness. She stood and placed a hand on Kayla’s cheek.   
“I’m sorry.”   
“Why have you summoned me here? Are you going to kill me?”   
“No, I wanted to know if Jorah was telling the truth about this warging business.”   
“He was.”   
“Good.” The Khaleesi stepped passed Kayla and crossed the room to chests gathered in the corner of the tent. She fished behind them all for a moment and carefully stood back up, her back to Kayla. When she finally turned, the lion cub in her arms yawned and the dragons in their cages screeched. “Will you show me?”   
Kayla frowned. “In something that small? I’d hurt her.” _He killed one for you, and gave you its daughter as a gift. Ironic._ Dany handed her the white lion of the grass sea and smiled. The cub opened her golden eyes and snuggled in Kayla’s arms. She was warm and soft and plump. Daenerys had been keeping her safe and healthy.   
“Kayla you and I are so similar, don’t you see? I have been scorned by the people of Westeros, and so have you. My dragons will burn cities to the ground, I am sure. But to have a lion at my side; I’d be on par with the usurper’s son.” Dany ran her fingers through the cub’s thick fur and sighed. “I have kept her for you, in the hopes that you might accept this offer. Help me take back my kingdoms, and you shall have your wish. I will legitimise you, and give you your grandfather’s head if it pleases you.”   
Kayla could feel her strength returning once more, warm and welcome. “The singers say that when the lion and the dragon fight, both shall die,” She whispered, staring into her cub’s golden eyes “but together they will conquer.”   
“Then it is settled.”   
“One thing,” Kayla lifted her head and faced her Queen “The Starks. If I am related to them, I want as many spared as you can. You should marry one, Daenerys. The Stark-Targaryen alliance is one to be feared and respected.”   
Dany shrugged. “Fine, I shall marry the Stark boy.”   
“He’s betrothed to a Frey, or so I heard before I left Westeros. He has a brother though; a bastard, but you could legitimise us both.” Kayla scratched her cub behind the ear, smiling softly at the little beast.   
“Fine, fine.” Dany waved the notion aside with a languid hand, and poured two cups of wine. Together they drank and laughed and told stories of Westeros late into the night. When morning came, Kayla woke to find herself curled around her lion cub at one end of the pillows, with Daenerys resting on the wing of Viserion at the other. To the untrained eye they made a pretty sight. But she knew that among those soft feather pillows were the two most fierce and dangerous women that Westeros would tremble to behold.


End file.
